


Burn

by mirlotta



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 01:40:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5356190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirlotta/pseuds/mirlotta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short MorMor one-shot involving love, blowing things up, and killing people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burn

He was burning the money. Or rather, he was making other people burn the money. All of it. The bank would be in uproar. He himself was watching the event from a TV screen, dancing around his apartment in a series of leaping spins - laughing delightedly all the while, his hands raised upwards in thanks to the Heavens. Jim Moriarty. Sebastian watched him from the sofa, his full lips curved in a bemused sort of smile. 

Jim didn't notice Sebastian's smirk, of course. The idiot never seemed to notice anything Sebastian did. He was always too busy orchestrating crimes, obsessing over Sherlock Holmes, that kind of thing. Killing people. Jim liked that sort of stuff. If Jim ever found a better sniper he might kill Sebastian too. Maybe he wouldn't even care. He'd probably use his dead corpse as a garden statue or something. Decorate his hair with a wreath of hand-picked tulips. It's not like he'd deluded himself into believing Jim actually cared for him. 

Jim stopped his twirling in front of Sebastian, grinning and breathless. "Sebastian." He snapped his fingers when his gun-man didn't respond, tapping his foot impatiently. "Sebastian. Code Red." A grin spread across his face, a light burning behind his eyes with a manic kind of glee. Jim motioned with his hand frantically, urging Sebastian on. Sebastian's eyes snapped up to face him, his hand snaking to his pocket to retrieve an small, oblong box. His fingers hovered over it hesitantly, and Jim snapped at him, the flame in his eyes flickering. "Press it!" Flopping down on the settee beside Sebastian, he pointed to the button that topped the box and Sebastian obeyed, hitting it down hard with an offhanded swipe of his palm. 

On the TV, the men who'd burnt the money froze. An insistent bleeping was sounding from the lead man's pocket, getting faster and louder with each passing second. Before they had time to react, the bomb exploded, and the TV flicked between picture and a static whirring. 

Jim shrugged, his smile apologetic. "Had to get rid of the evidence." 

And then he laughed. Oh, how Sebastian adored Jim's laugh - a glorious mixture of quivering highs and resonating lows, dripping from his lips like ambrosia fallen from Paradise. Sebastian watched the man, silent as always, letting Jim's voice seep through the cracks in his soul, glueing him back together and making him whole. 

He spoke in a rush, the words tripping over each other in their rush to escape. "May-we-be... Maybe we could- you know, we could celebrate or..." 

Jim looked at him, considering, and a spark of knowledge flashed in his eyes. His teeth glinted when he smiled. Sebastian chewed on his lip, wondering absentmindedly if Jim had ever had braces. Running his tongue along his own uneven teeth, he decided that he probably had. Or perhaps he was just born perfect. 

In his soft voice which seemed almost to caress Sebastian's heart, wrapping around it like a sheet of sheeny silk, Jim broke through Sebastian's thoughts more effectively than any weapon. "Well," he said contemplating. "I never could say no to a party." 

Sebastian swallowed, sure Jim had noticed the colour rushing to his cheeks. "I- I sort of meant just us. Celebrate just us." He looked around anxiously - anywhere, anywhere but at Jim - then added the word "Boss," for good measure. 

Jim's eyes widened slightly, but he made no other sign of reaction, schooling the creases of his face into careful serenity. "A party for two then," he offered smoothly, standing up in one fluid movement. Turning around, he extended a hand to Sebastian, eyebrows raised in assured confidence. 

Sebastian scooted back in his seat a little, his hands twitching worriedly in his lap. "Are you... You're not... Asking me to dance?"

Tossing back his head, Jim laughed. There it was again: that laugh, that wonderful laugh. If its owner hadn't so definitely guaranteed himself a spot in Hell, Sebastian would have thought it came from the lips of an angel. Jim snorted, rolling his eyes dramatically. He loved dramatics - it seemed to give him an escape from the ongoing state of perpetual boredom he lived in. It livened everything up when he interspersed his life with a mixture of flourishing hand gestures and facial expressions. "Oh, Sebastian." He paused. "Sebastian." He exhaled, tilting his head to one side as he clicked his tongue. "I'm disappointed in you. How boring. Dancing is so clichéd." Deliberating, his lip quirked as he faced his gunman. 

"Take my hand." It wasn't a request. 

Sebastian stretched out his hand to the crazed psychopath without asking questions, or hesitating for a mere minute about the possible outcomes of this action. He took Moriarty's hand, and he pulled himself to his feet, and they stood there for what seemed like both ten seconds and ten millennia, their hands clasped together in a fragile, shaking bond. Holding Jim's hand was like holding a slice of childish bliss, his fingers small and slender in Sebastian's grip. It was the closest they'd ever stood together, he realised, his heart quickening as he gazed down in wonder at Jim Moriarty. God, he was so small. So beautifully, delicately small. Almost like a girl, with his thin frame and expressive dark eyes. 

Jim tilted his head up, and his breath, cool and minty, mingled with Sebastian's own. If they were just a little closer they'd be kissing, noticed Sebastian with the sort of adulation others might have only when looking upon statues of their Gods. In a sense, Jim was his God, really. Trenching up a shard of nervous courage from the bottom of his soul, he lowered his head to kiss Jim, anticipating the sharp rush of icy desire sure to grab him, consume him whole. He would let it. He would do anything if he could have Jim. And it seemed like Jim would do the same. Loved him back, even. 

Love. Such a powerful word, with so many resonating connotations. Some sickeningly sweet, and some bitterly contorted, scrunched up in such a way that they're barely recognisable. Even as Sebastian thought of the future that could blossom from love, and this moment, the madman tipped his face away from Sebastian, his eyes flickering in irritation. Removing his hand from the other's grip, he stepped backwards, mouth set in a twisted mockery of a smile. "I know you love me, Sebastian. I know you love me, and I know you hate yourself for it." He sighed, puffing out his cheeks as if he was bored. As if he was bored of Sebastian, and bored of talking to him. Of almost kissing each other. Bored. "It's adorable. You can't contain yourself - and you make such ridiculous attempts to hide it. Your love for me, I mean." 

Sebastian shook - his hands limp by his sides, enamour slowly melting to a flaring, burning rage. "But no one can hide anything from you. Can they?" 

"No," Jim agreed simply, tossing his head. With a jeering up-turn of his lips, he moved to push past Sebastian on the way to the door, probably to decide how best to use the information he'd obtained to his advantage. 

And then he stopped. 

His footsteps puttering to a deliberate halt, he faced Sebastian once more. Reaching up, he pulled on the back of the sniper's collar till his head was at the level of Jim's lips. On his tiptoes, Jim teetered as he strained to whisper in Sebastian's ear. 

His words were this: "But I can hide anything I want from you. I can hide pain, I can hide secrets. I can hide an aching, all consuming love." He stopped short, for effect more than anything. "I love you too, Sebastian Moran." 

Sebastian's mouth contorting into a round "O" of shock, Jim stopped the tsunami of words Sebastian threatened to let loose by planting a kiss on his mouth, followed by another, and then another. Each touch of their mouths so short, so innocently, magically delectable, and filling each other with a longing for more - a yearning, craving breathlessness that left Sebastian light headed and Jim red faced. 

Sebastian spoke against Jim's mouth, his words muffled by everything else he'd wanted to say for so, so long. "Are you still bored now?" 

A silence in which they kissed, and Sebastian wondered if his question would ever be answered. 

Then: "I'm not bored, not anymore. I'm not bored when I'm with you. You're interesting. You interest me." Jim's voice was incredulous, and it was hopeful, and it only gave Sebastian a thousand more good reasons why he should kiss him again.


End file.
